


Late Night Double Feature

by vorpalblades



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Evil alarm clocks, F/M, Homophobic Language, M/M, People are sometimes stupid-heads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorpalblades/pseuds/vorpalblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gone are the lazy summer days of Jared’s youth; he now has his first-ever job at the Starlight Cinemas. It’s nothing like he expected – long hours, hard work, and unpredictable coworkers, including one Jensen Ackles. Only one thing is certain: Jared’s going to learn more than how to make the perfect batch of popcorn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Double Feature

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2008 round of spn_j2_bigbang.

Welcome, worms, to Starlight Cinemas, your home away from home for the next three months. If you are here, that means one of three things. One, your mommy and daddy didn’t want you running under foot all summer and forced you to get a job. Two, we’re the only place who called you back when you sent out your undoubtedly impressive resume. Or three, you’re just a loser who won’t leave. It’s okay, we still accept you. You’re family here.

If you are expecting an easy sit-on-your-ass job, I’m thrilled to say you’re dead wrong. You will _work_. Prepare for long hours, sweltering stock rooms, and the stench of popcorn butter permeating every article of clothing you own. And nothing, _nothing_ , will compare to the defeat of serving your best friends at the concession counter and then having to clean up their mess afterwards.

In other words, folks, welcome to Hell. Have a nice stay.

*****

Seven thirty in the morning, and Jared’s alarm clock was blaring. It seemed louder in the summer, unnatural, paranormal even. It clearly needed to be destroyed. Unfortunately, the clock’s mystical powers made it more formidable than he’d anticipated, because chucking it at the wall only succeeded in moving the ear-piercing device out of reach. Did absolutely _nothing_ for the ear-piercing part.

Just great.

He pulled the covers over his head, hoping maybe his sheets had developed powers of their own, like sound-proof powers specifically. No such luck, but damn, it was warm and cozy. He burrowed a little deeper, happily trading silence away for comfort.

It was short lived, though. Jared flinched when someone outside of his cocoon flipped on the light. The damn sheets hadn’t developed light-proofing powers either. He had two full seconds of _I can ignore this, everything’s still fine_ before evil, _evil_ hands grasped the bottom of his sheets and pulled them clean off the bed.

“Up you get, JT.” Oh, it was her. _Mom._ The bane of late-day sleepers everywhere. “Come on, sweetie. Your orientation meeting starts at nine, and you need to get ready.”

Jared reached blindly for the sheets, despite knowing it was futile. She’d wised up to his sheet-groping ways years ago. 

Okay, a change in tactics, then: pleading. “Do I have to? Why can’t I just stay home with you and Dad all summer?”

The mattress dipped, and he barely cracked his eyes open to see his mother sitting at his knees. “We talked about this, Jared. Your father and I were happy to let you enjoy your summers through high school, but you’ve already got a year of college under your belt. Time to learn some responsibility, especially now that you have your truck. You have to get your insurance and gas money from somewhere, right?”

“Chad’s parents didn’t make him get a summer job.”

She sighed, and Jared knew he’d pushed a little too far. “Well, good for Chad, if they can afford for him to stay at home and do whatever he wants all day. But _you_ are not Chad, so that means you get up.” She patted him on the calf as she stood. “Start getting ready, and I’ll make you breakfast for your first day.”

“Thanks.”

“And I cleaned and pressed your work shirt and jeans for you. They’re hanging in your closet.”

“Thanks, Mo—wait, what?”

*****

_I can’t believe this_ , Jared thought again as he shifted his pick-up into park. _I’m the geek showing up in ironed jeans. She even put a freaking crease in them._

Given the early hour, the movie theater parking lot was pretty empty, with only a dozen or so cars belonging to other employees there for the summer orientation meeting, Jared assumed. Starlight Cinemas was the largest independently-owned, non-chain movie theater in the state, with twenty-five screens playing everything from the newest blockbuster releases to obscure indie films. They had classic horror movie marathons once a month—Hammer to Harryhousen—and an acting troupe came in every Saturday night for _Rocky Horror Picture Show_.

The place was fun and popular, so management hired additional help every summer to assist with the rush.

Jared rubbed his hands across his thighs vigorously, trying to soften the creases, but the stubborn bastards weren’t going anywhere. Joy. Conceding defeat, he got out of his truck, pulled his shirt straight – “Employee” embroidered above the front pocket – and headed for the theater’s front door.

There was a group of people milling around in the lobby when he entered, and he gave them a wide smile when the majority turned an eye toward him. One or two people smiled back, and a couple gave him a thorough inspection – head to toe – smirking when they saw his pants. Eventually, everyone went back to taking in their surroundings and chatting with each other.

Jared shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Already, this job was disappointing.

A few more people trickled into the lobby to join them, milling about for only a moment. Everyone went quiet when a guy stepped out from one of the back rooms, shorter than Jared by almost a foot, kind of squirrely-looking with the beginnings of a receding hairline. His shirt had “Assistant Manager” above the pocket.

“Alright, peons,” the guy started. “Let’s get this over with so you can all get to work.” The man had the air of someone used to giving orders and direction. Everyone circled around him, some more hesitantly than the others. Two men on the opposite side of the circle from Jared looked bored, in fact, and they hung back just a little bit, not quite part of the group.

Once everyone was settled, the assistant manager coughed. “Welcome, worms, to Starlight Cinemas, your home away from home for the next three months. My name is Eric, but it’s Mr. Kripke or sir to all of you, got it?” Jared was taken aback for a second by the guy’s tone – man, what a goober – but then he caught sight of the two guys across the way. One of them – Jared caught a flash of bright green eyes – was slouched and whispering, and it took Jared a moment to realize he was mouthing along with the words coming from Kripke. The other guy, wearing a worn-in cowboy hat, was smirking, mirroring his pal on occasion. Jared had to hold back a chuckle and almost missed what the manager was saying. 

“If you are here, that means one of three things. One, your mommy and daddy didn’t want you running underfoot all summer and forced you to get a job.” Kripke stared pointedly at Jared, giving him a once-over. Fucking jeans. “Two, we’re the only place who called you back when you sent out your undoubtedly impressive resume. Or three, you’re just a loser who won’t leave.” 

Now the guy turned to face the two clowns, and they both sobered immediately. Green Eyes slid on an innocent face, while Urban Cowboy had the gall to start whistling. Kripke wasn’t amused. “Speaking of losers. Kane, how many times do I have to tell you about the hat? It’s not part of Starlight-approved uniform wear.”

Tex reached up and removed the hat, held it innocently against his chest. “Sorry, _boss_ ,” and if that wasn’t dripping with sarcasm, Jared was one of the Seven Dwarves.

Kripke rolled his eyes and started pacing in the circle again, addressing the rest of the crowd. “If you were expecting an easy sit-on-your-ass job, I’m thrilled to say you’re dead wrong.” Once Kripke’s back was turned, Cowboy – Kane, Jared figured – put the hat right back on his head. “You will _work_. Prepare for long hours, sweltering stock rooms, and the stench of popcorn butter permeating every article of clothing you own. And nothing, _nothing_ , will compare to the defeat of serving your best friends at the concession counter and then having to clean up their mess afterwards.”

He smiled, the kind of calculating smile Jared had only seen on Disney villains before now. “In other words, folks, welcome to Hell. Have a nice stay. 

“Now, I have a list of all you summer employees, and I’ll go through it to see where everyone should be stationed for today.” Kripke pulled a long sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and scanned the contents. He sighed before starting. “Ackles.” Green Eyes perked up an eyebrow. “You have projector room two today. No screwing around, and I mean it.”

Ackles gave a mock salute. “Sir! Yes, sir!” Kripke just sneered and kept reading down the list. People were given a variety of responsibilities for the day, everything from concessions to ticket sales – with Kane in projector room one. Jared was still holding out hope he might get a decent position for his first day since Kripke had yet to come to him.

Finally, “Pad…Pada…what the hell?”

“Padalecki, sir.” Hey, he was used to it.

“Whatever. You’ve got clean-up detail with Rosenbaum and Welling. Block one, theaters one through eight. They’ll show you where the supply closet is.”

And just like that, Jared’s hopes for a decent summer were smashed. Janitorial work on his first day. How much worse could it get?

*****

He needed to learn when to keep his big mouth shut.

When Kripke finished passing out assignments, everyone broke apart to find their day’s trainer. Every newcomer seemed to be partnered with a veteran or two, and introductions were brief as everyone went to work.

Jared was approached by two guys, one surprisingly as tall as Jared, with dark hair and blue eyes. The guy extended his hand to Jared, which he eagerly shook. “Tom Welling,” he introduced himself then motioned to the slightly shorter and much balder man. “This is Mike.”

Mike gave Jared the head-to-toe treatment – and seriously, Jared was going to kill his mother for the jeans – then broke into a huge grin. “Rookies get bathroom duty.”

They showed him where the cleaning supplies were, what products were used on what surfaces, where to find the extra trash bags and where they hid the key to the backdoor by the dumpsters. Oddly enough, it was a lot of information to take in, and Jared felt extremely unprepared when eleven o’clock rolled around and the Starlight opened its doors.

Turned out, matinees drew a bigger crowd than Jared ever expected. If he was honest, he’d never really paid much attention to the attendees around him during a show. But you couldn’t miss it when you were one of the theater employees. Especially when it seemed like every other patron was seeking you out to complain about _something._

It’s too cold in there.

It’s too hot in there.

The popcorn tastes funny.

It’s too loud. Ask them to turn the volume down.

“Too loud! Can you believe that?” The eleven-twenty presentation of some romantic comedy Jared had never heard of just cleared out, and Jared was taking the opportunity for some good old-fashioned ranting. “The guy was holding his hands over his ears and everything.”

“You get used to it,” Tom said as he swept under a row of seats. “I actually had some old lady tell me one time that she couldn’t see the whole picture and we needed to make our screens smaller. Turns out she was sitting right up front.”

Jared laughed as he took to the stairs and headed to the back row. He filled his arms with discarded soda cups and popcorn containers then ran back down and tossed them in their trash bin. He made two more trips like that before he realized Tom and Mike were staring at him with amused grins on their faces. “What?”

“Mike, go show him what he’s doing wrong.”

“Come on, kid.” Mike hauled Jared up to the top row by the shirt. “There’s a reason they design these hand railings the way they do.” When they got to the top, Mike grabbed the nearest soda cup and angled it between the railing and the wall. It fit perfectly, and when he let go, it slid down the length of the railing and directly into the trash bin waiting at the end. “If you don’t ball up the popcorn bags, they’ll drop the same way. Just make sure you put the can in place first.” That said, Mike climbed onto the railing himself and slid halfway down the stairs. When he hopped off, Tom wordlessly tossed him a broom, and together the three of them made quick work of the theater.

They still made him clean the bathroom by himself, though. “Jesus, don’t these people know how to aim?” Jared could hear them chuckling just outside the bathroom doors. “It’s like they’re freaking two year olds! Are they toilet trained at all?”

“Don’t forget the handicap stall.” Mike sounded like he was holding back the most maniacal laugh in the history of the world. Jared should have known something was up just from that. But when he kicked open the last door, he really hadn’t been ready for the mess. Toilet paper all over the floor, sopping trash piled into the corners, food wrappers for things they didn’t even sell in the concessions and – oh dear god – even used condoms.

“What the fuck!”

“Palidecki!” Oh. Oh no. Jared turned and found Kripke standing right behind him, looking red in the face. “We don’t tolerate that kind of language out of our employees here at Starlight. You’re lucky I’m not a customer.”

“Sorry, sir.” Jared bowed his head, ignoring the botched pronunciation of his name. Instead, he instantly thought of three elaborate ways he could get back at the other two for not covering his back. Payback, oh yes, it would be a bitch.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Kripke griped, and then paused, taking in the full scene around him. “Take care of this mess. And you’re on clean up tomorrow too, just to make sure you understand how things work around here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kripke left, and moments later Tom and Mike inched into the bathroom with him. To their credit, they at least had the decency to look contrite. “Seriously, we didn’t see him coming until it was too late.” Tom toed a little at the trash, his lips curling when he unveiled something particularly gooey on the floor. “Didn’t mean for you to get Scrub Squad, _again_.”

“Whatever. You guys have any tips for getting this done faster too?”

“Yeah,” Mike said, holding out a hand. “Give me the mop and toss Tom the bleach. You can still get mirrors, bitch.”

*****

Some kid puked up popcorn and Mr. Pibb during the three o’clock slasher movie, and Tom sent Jared to fetch the heavy duty cleaner from the backup stock closet. “We can’t keep it in the main stockroom because it’s toxic,” he explained. “We’d kill off the clientele if any of that happened to get on the napkins, or whatever.”

Jared found the closet without any problems, used the key Tom gave him, and flipped on the weak light bulb hanging overhead. The space was bigger than anticipated, a stack of boxes in the back nearly stretched the ceiling and connecting flush with the left wall. There was a small gap on the right though, just wide enough for someone to squeeze through if they tried. Which Jared did.

There was harsh rustling and a hissed-out “fuck” before Jared’s eyes adjusted completely and he caught a good look at the other people apparently hiding in the little alcove the boxes provided. Cowboy – _Kane_ , damn it – looked relieved, pulled a lit cigarette from behind his back and took another puff.

Ackles, however, looked pissed. “Jesus Christ. Don’t you knock?”

“On a closet door?”

“Especially on a closet door. Fuck, we thought you were Kripke.”

Jared looked between the two of them. “I can’t believe you’re smoking in here.”

Kane just shrugged, exhaled slowly. “What can I say? We don’t exactly get cigarette breaks other than the fifteen minute lunch they so graciously give us.” He pointed to a vent above his head. “There’s good air flow.”

Jared turned to Ackles. “And you?”

The guy shrugged. “Needed a breather. If the rookie I got paired with threaded a reel wrong one more time, I might have run her hair through the projector just to feel better.” Ackles smirked a little bit. “You’re Pada-Whatever, right?”

“Jared. I don’t think my last name can survive another mangling.”

Ackles nodded, smirk slowly turning into a smile. “Jensen. And Chris.” Kane raised his cigarette in acknowledgment. “So what brings you ‘round here? Thought you had first block with the Dynamic Duo?”

“Kid puked in four.” Both Jensen and Chris wrinkled their noses, and Jared started to slip back out through the gap. “Any clue which one of these bottles I need to grab?”

“The yellow,” Jensen offered. “Third shelf right.”

“Thanks. Can’t read the labels in this light.”

“Palomino!” Christ, not again. Kripke was just outside the closet. “Who are you talking to?”

“Myself, sir.” Jared could swear he’d heard both Jensen and Chris take a collective breath on the other side of the box wall. “Couldn’t remember which bottle Tom told me to bring back.”

“Tom?”

“Um, Welling.”

“Welling. Right. Well, next time, close the door behind you. We have an image to uphold, and our patrons don’t need to see our supply closet or, god forbid, walk in on their own. It’s locked for a reason, you know.” Kripke pulled the bottle from Jared’s hands and tapped repeatedly on the skull and crossbones emblem on the label. Handing it back, Kripke pivoted on a heel and walked away. 

Jared waited until he was certain he was gone, and then looked back at the boxes. Jensen peeked around, grinning. “Thanks for the cover, Jared. See you around, okay?” This close and in better light, Jared could make out the smattering of freckles across the bridge of Jensen’s nose.

Jared nodded, grabbed the yellow bottle of cleaner, and left, closing the door behind him.

*****

His back ached, his feet hurt, his thighs burned, and there was nothing more he wanted to do than crawl into bed and say goodbye to the world for about twelve hours. So of course, that was when Chad called.

“Man,” Chad started. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day. Where the hell have you been?”

“Work. Remember? I had to get a job.”

“A job, right. Totally forgot. Well, what do we have planned for tonight, Jay-red?”

“Sleep.”

“Sleep’s not a plan.”

“Sleep is so a plan. It’s an _excellent_ plan.”

There was some yelling on the other side of the line, and Jared could barely make out Chad telling whoever was around to shut up. “Come on, Jared. The whole gang’s over at my place. We’ve hardly seen you all year, Mr. Local-Colleges-Aren’t-Good-Enough, and we deserve prime Padalecki time.”

“Man, I _just_ got home from my first day. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“Sandy’s here.”

Jared scowled, hoping just once Chad might be able to see his expression through the phone line. “Low blow, jackass.”

Chad laughed. “See you in ten minutes.”

Jackass or not, Chad knew exactly how to push Jared’s buttons. The chance to see Sandy McCoy was Jared’s proverbial carrot-on-a-stick. Sandy, who he’d spent all high school and now his freshman year of college mooning over. Wasn’t Jared’s fault he got instantly tongue-tied the moment she came into view. It was just that, well, she was Sandy.

There were tons of cars parked in front of Chad’s place when Jared pulled up. The Murrays were one of the more affluent families in town, and their house was no less a testament to their lifestyle. In the four years Jared had known Chad, he still hadn’t been inside all of the rooms. Hell, he didn’t think _Chad_ had even been inside them all.

It looked like Chad’s new toy was a restored Shelby Cobra, silver paint job with a black racing stripe up and over the hood, sleek and center stage in their garage. The license plate read _Chad XII_. Jared ran his hand over the car, made a mental note to borrow the keys in the near future. Ride like that, well, he couldn’t let Chad have all the fun.

He let himself in – Mrs. Murray had insisted years ago that knocking was for company, not for family – and found the party in mid-swing around him. 

When Chad had said the whole gang, he’d obviously meant their entire graduating class. And then some. People Jared didn’t even recognize milled around him, drinking out of red plastic cups and yelling at each other over the loud music.

“Jared!” At the sound of his name, Jared turned around and watched Chad pull himself off the couch. Chad grabbed a cup off a nearby table and pushed it into Jared’s hand. “About time you got your skinny ass over here.”

Jared took a gulp, winced a little because damn, it was strong. Chad must have raided his father’s liquor cabinet again. “I can’t stay long. Have to get up early in the morning.”

“What for?”

“Work, you idiot.”

“Again? I thought you already worked today.”

Jared rolled his eyes. There was no way he was best friends with someone this stupid. “It’s a continual thing. Means tomorrow and the next day and the next, if they schedule me like that.”

“Fuck! Where are you working, anyway?”

“The Starlight.”

Chad wrinkled his nose and chugged down the rest of the contents of his cup. “That dive? Why don’t you talk to my dad? He could set you up with some cushy summer position with his company. Knowing Dad, you wouldn’t even have to show up to get paid.”

In truth, Jared had considered it. If his mother hadn’t made him fill out applications for area businesses, he probably would have gone straight to Mr. Murray and asked. But now he was at the Starlight, and he thought back to the moments of fun he’d had with Tom and Mike, and for one brief moment his mind inexplicably flashed on _green_. 

Jared smiled. “Nah, I’m cool where I am. Besides, now I don’t have to deal with you making intern jokes at my expense.”

“Whatever, dude.” Chad slapped him on the back and grabbed another drink out of a passerby’s hand. “Come on, Sandy’s in the other room.”

*****

The alarm clock’s evil powers had intensified to near sonic levels. Of course, that could have been due to Jared staying out until after one in the morning, but really, it was easier to blame an inanimate object for his discomfort, instead of blaming himself.

It didn’t help matters any when his mother entered his room a few moments later with ice cubes. Pouring the damn things down his t-shirt was just a _cruel_ way to wake him.

Still, it was all worth it, because Sandy had spoken to him. Used complete sentences, and everything. It had been a far cry better than any of their two-word conversations of the past.

When Jared stepped inside the theater, he headed to the tiny room he had been informed counted as the employee lounge. One small table with only four chairs sat smack in the middle, and the walls held the time-in clock and boards displaying everything from company policies to Ten Tips for Better Employee Morale. Jared chuckled at that one. The biggest dry-erase board he’d ever seen held the day’s roster, and true to Kripke’s word, Jared was signed up for janitorial duty again, theaters nine through eighteen.

Morning setup went quickly. Jared was kind of shocked when he walked to his bank of theaters and found Chris standing there, hat perched back on his head, twirling the closet key around his finger. “Surprised I didn’t get Scrub Squad yesterday,” was Chris’ only explanation, and together they grabbed the supplies they needed to get the place ready. Another rookie was on their team, a short girl by the name of Alexis, who Jared took pity on and showed the railing trick after her fourth trip up the stairs.

Things got messy in the early afternoon. Jared’s fifteen minute break was just ending, and he came out of the employee lounge in time to watch about ten guys, frat boys if he had to guess, show up for the new crude comedy showing in theater twelve. They were loud, obnoxiously so, and vulgar to the point where parents were glaring and covering their children’s ears. Half of them went into the arcade to manhandle a perfectly good Capcom game, and the rest headed for the concession stand. The schedule put Kreuk and Mack – Jared never did catch their first names at the orientation meeting – at the counter, and Jared saw both girls share a worried glance.

It was okay until the third guy placed his order, and Jared was actually able to see the point where he went from annoying creep to full-on sleaze. While Mack turned away to fill his order, the guy leaned over the counter to get right in Kreuk’s face. From his position, Jared couldn’t hear what the guy was saying, but given the man’s eye-line and hand gestures, he could make a really educated guess. And Kreuk couldn’t have looked less interested. She was moving away from the counter’s edge when the guy grabbed her wrist, and her surprised yelp had Jared moving quick.

In five determined steps, he was down the hallway and right at Frat Boy’s side. “Excuse me,” Jared gritted through his teeth, and he had to resist the urge to throw a punch when the man turned a slimy smile his way. 

Instead, Jared pulled himself to his full height – he could be an intimidating bastard when he wanted to be – and glowered down at the creep. “I’m going to have to ask you and your friends to leave. You’re causing a disturbance.”

The guy blinked a couple times, like Jared was surprising him with some sort of revelation or something, and flung Kreuk’s wrist away from him. “Really?” he asked, and Jared could swear he smelled alcohol on the man’s breath. Typical. “Well, don’t you have to get permission from your manager to kick someone out?”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. In fact…” and Jared looked over his shoulder in the direction of Kripke’s office, expecting his boss to come out any second to investigate the disturbance.

Kreuk’s surprised gasp was the only warning Jared got. Then there was a brief flash before his eyes, followed by pain at his left temple, and then the floor. It wasn’t until Jared rolled onto his back and saw Frat Boy pulling back his fist for another punch that he realized what had just happened. By that time, all Jared could do is flinch and wait for the next blow.

It never came. Jared blinked up again to see Jensen standing behind Frat Boy, holding the guy in a body lock that pinned both arms at his back. The man struggled futilely; Jensen just shifted his weight to keep the hold.

“See, here’s what I don’t understand,” Jensen said into the guy’s ear. “Jared was going to let you guys go, no muss no fuss, and then you had to be an idiot. Now we have to call the cops, do all that paperwork, file assault charges. Now we’re all going to be stuck here after our shifts, instead of heading home. Just so you could, what, look like more of a badass for your Neanderthal buddies?”

At Jensen’s words, said Neanderthals seemed to do the math and realize there were more of them than there was of Jensen, and they advanced to help their friend. Or at least they’d started to, but at that moment Jared was treated to the upside-down view of Chris charging onto the scene, brandishing a mop. Seemed like a pretty effective barrier from where he was watching.

Of course, that was the moment Kripke decided to finally emerge from his cave. “What’s going on in here? Ackles, Kane, you two had better have good reasons for harassing the customers.”

“Not to sound too third grade, _sir_ ,” Jensen said, still restraining the fidgety man, “but they started it. Genius here decided it would be a good idea to, what was your word, harass the employees.”

Kripke looked suspicious, and his gaze bounced between Jensen and Chris and then traveled down. “Paddywagon, what’s your part in all of this?”

“One of the harassed, sir.” Jared gingerly rubbed at his jaw. “Ow.”

“Fine.” Kripke sighed and rolled his eyes. “Kane, direct them to my office. I’ll call the police department so we can get this all settled.”

From behind the counter, Mack snapped her cell phone shut. “Already handled, sir.”

Throwing his hands up, Kripke huffed, “Fine! Kane, now. And for the last time, take that hat off!” He stomped away to his office, followed by Chris, who was waving his hat above his head and singing “yeehaw” like he was herding cattle. The frat boys stumbled along begrudgingly, and Jensen released his captive and pushed him into the bumbling mess.

When they were gone, Jensen extended his hand to Jared, and he gratefully took it, welcoming the help up. Once he was back on his feet, Jared brushed himself off and smiled at Jensen. “Thanks for the backup, man.”

“No problem. Those guys looked like trouble from the moment I handed them their tickets.” Jensen gestured over his shoulder, and Jared could see the back door to the ticket booth standing wide open. “Sorry I didn’t make it before he decked ya, though. That’s going to be one hell of a bruise.”

Jared rubbed his jaw again, and yeah — still hurt like a bitch. “Got here before round two, which again, thanks. Where’d you learn moves like that, anyway?”

“Took a couple of self-defense classes back in high school.” Jensen shrugged, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat, but I think my rookie’s getting a little flustered on his own. You got plans for tonight?”

Jared shook his head, and Jensen grinned. “You do now. You know Treff’s out on Sixth? A bunch of the matinee crew’s going out there for drinks after shift.”

“I’m not 21.”

“And they don’t card,” Jensen said while backing away. “SO’s are welcome, and the bartender’s generous with the booze, so bring cash for tips.” Then he turned completely and shut the door to the booth.

*****

Jensen had been right. They _did_ have to stay after shift to fill out paperwork, and it sucked. A lot.

After a brief call home to let his mom know he was going out, Jared drove downtown to Treff’s Bar. It was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that had been there before they fully developed the area, snuggled between two high-rise office buildings. Jared had never been inside, so he wasn’t fully expecting the slightly _cozy_ atmosphere of the place. The lighting was just the right level, not a florescent bulb in sight, and the barstools were generously cushioned. On the walls, there were framed photographs of favored patrons.

He recognized the group he was looking for in the back corner, laughing louder than the jukebox, and he headed over. Mack was the first one to see him. “Hey! Our resident knight in shining armor is here.” The whole table turned around to see him, wide grins on everyone’s faces.

Introductions were quick: the petite brunette on Tom’s knee was his girlfriend Jamie, the guy sitting behind Chris, strumming a guitar, was his friend Steve, and as it turned out, Kreuk and Mack’s first names were Kristin and Allison. Felt good to know.

Shortly after Jared found a chair to drag over, Kristin dropped a bottle into his hand. “I didn’t get the chance to thank you back at the theater, but I really did appreciate you going all Don Quixote on my behalf.”

Jared raised his beer in salute. “At least he wasn’t really a windmill though, right? Because that would have just been embarrassing.”

Strong hands fell on Jared’s shoulders, and he looked up to see Jensen hovering over him. “Give the kid a prize. He got Kristin’s literature quiz of the day.” Jensen squeezed lightly then moved to an empty seat next to Chris. “At least we got one smart rookie in the whole bunch. The kid I was working with today somehow managed to crash the ticket program. I had to reboot the whole system before we could move the line along.”

As if on cue, everyone broke into stories about the stupid things their rookies had done throughout the day. Jared had been there when Alexis forgot to position the trash bin before sending a nearly-full soda down the railing, and he laughed when Chris explained in great detail the intensity of the resulting splash. “There was Coke on the screen, I swear to God!”

Everyone at the table obviously had a couple of years at the Starlight under their belts, and as the stories turned into recollections of newbies-past, it became clear to Jared who the true veterans were. Jensen had finished talking about the guy who had, seven years ago, managed to light a reel of film on fire when he attempted to smoke up in the projector room – “It’s why they put at least two of us up there now, seriously” – when Jared asked, “How come you keep coming back? I mean, summer after summer for more than seven years?”

Jensen smirked. “I have my reasons. But the biggest one? Two words, Jared: Employee screenings.” When they locked eyes, Jensen’s mouth around his own beer, it was Jared who gulped.

*****

Over the following weeks, Jared fell into a pattern. He offered a truce to his alarm clock, vowing to hold off on the late nights if it’d cease hitting glass-shattering octaves, and for the most part, the clock held to its side of the deal. Kripke seemed to like Jared working the matinee shift, so he never pulled evening hours. He’d hit almost every duty in the rotation, Scrub Squad more often than not, but he’d had a chance just about everywhere else. He learned that concessions left him feeling slimy afterwards, and really, there was no feasible way that kid could have crashed the tickets program – damn thing was point-and-click – but Jared supposed he shouldn’t judge.

Chad held quite a few more parties, but Jared started secretly hating the crowds, the noise, not knowing a single person around him. Before long, he found himself bowing out in favor of quieter nights with the Starlight gang. While most of their off-the-clock hours were spent winding down at Treff’s, there were other occasions when they shuffled it up a little. 

Chris and Steve ended up playing a couple of gigs, and everyone went to whatever dive they were playing to cheer them on. Another night, they decided to hit a karaoke bar, and Jared learned it took all of three beers and a shot of tequila to get Jensen onstage. Add another couple rounds of kamikaze shots – a few snuck under the table for Jared – and they were all up there making fools of themselves. Of course, the resulting hangovers the next day cemented the fact that they’d never do it again.

But they were a good group, and Jared was beginning to realize how lucky he was to fall in with them.

They were at Treff’s sharing embarrassing stories about high school shenanigans when Jared’s cell phone rang. The screen flashed “Chad”, and he excused himself as people broke out into the giggles at Mike’s retelling of cafeteria dares gone wrong.

“I am the best Best Friend in all the world,” Chad said when Jared answered. “I got you a date with Sandy.”

Jared’s tongue must have swelled to three times its normal size, because the next words out of his mouth were nothing but a jumble of vowels. He had to take a couple deep breaths, bordering on hyperventilating really, before he could say anything decipherable. “You didn’t. When?”

“Tonight, idiot. She’s meeting you at eight.”

“What? Where?” A quick look at his watch, seven thirty – shit! Jared scrambled back to the table, downing the rest of his drink and snatching up his keys. He was still in his uniform, damn it. Everyone gave him a concerned look, surprised by his frantic rush, and Jensen mouthed, “You okay?” Jared shook his head.

Chad didn’t seem to notice the panic in Jared’s voice. “The Starlight. You like that place, right?”

Jared stopped dead in his tracks. “I _work_ there, you moron. I can’t take Sandy on a date to the place I work!” The girls at the table rolled their eyes, the guys snickered, and it might have been Jared’s brain working overtime, but it seemed like Jensen frowned.

“Right, your job. Shit, man, I forgot. Sorry.” Chad really didn’t sound apologetic. “Oh well, she’s already on her way, so this is your chance. Make me proud, Jay-red.”

Jared flipped his phone shut. “I’ll kill him later. I gotta run, guys. Sorry. Once in a lifetime opportunity and all that.”

“Go get her, tiger,” Mike shooed. “And lose the work duds before Kripke thinks you came back for a second shift.” Jared smiled and ducked out of the bar, in too much of a hurry to think much of Steve patting Jensen consolingly on the back.

*****

The world fucking sucked. Everything was against him, and his goddamn alarm clock was in on the conspiracy.

His truck, his beautiful, yes-she-may-be-used-but-she's-perfect truck, apparently decided to join the mutiny as well. A fully flat tire when he was already late, and he had to get his mom to drive him to work. And of course, she drove like a myopic octogenarian. Yeah, take _that_ , Ms. Flugger's vocabulary lessons.

He got there just in time to clock in and stared blankly at the schedule list for a few moments to give his brain time to jumpstart. Only then did he realize what duty was next to his name… Pimento: Projection Room 3. He'd never run the projectors before, and it just figured he'd be scheduled for them on a day he was most likely to make them explode or something.

Only one thing stopped him from marching into Kripke's office and demanding Scrub Squad. His assigned partner for the day? Jensen Ackles. If anyone would be able to keep him from smashing the equipment, either on accident or out of spite, it would be Jensen.

He met with Jensen on the stairway to the projection room, Jensen on his way down. "Man, I was just coming to look for you. You're usually not this late."

"Flat tire," Jared huffed.

"Say no more. Come on. Little time, lot to teach."

The projection room was just as Jared anticipated, lots of complex-looking machines, switches and knobs, stuff he'd never seen the likes of before. It was practically spotless, very organized, and maybe just a little bit intimidating.

Jensen got straight to business. "It's a little more work up here than in most theaters. Starlight's one of the few multiplexes that still use a manual two-reel system instead of an automated single-reel, which means the projectionists have to stay in the booth the whole time to handle changeovers."

Jared blinked. "Okay, that _sounded_ like English…"

"Square one, huh?" Jensen chuckled as he stepped toward one of the machines. "Okay, here's theater twenty, which means Generic Romantic Comedy #1,573. The studios send us the goods in multiple reels, usually around six a movie. Single-reel projectors require connecting all the spools before playing the movie, so you can just set it and forget it. In our case though, we get one reel playing and then set up the next reel in the other machine. Then we watch for cues for the changeover. Please tell me you've seen Fight Club."

It took a moment for Jared's brain to wrap around Jensen’s question, then he smiled. "Yeah, okay. I get what you're saying now."

"Awesome. First cue spot hits, you start the motor on the follow-up reel. Lamp gets scorching, but the main douser's automatic, so you don't have to worry too much about melting the film. The second cue means you have one second to switch the reels before the tail end of the first reel gets projected. Kripke has kittens every time that happens. The changeover is synchronized so that hitting the button closes the outgoing reel douser at the same time as opening the incoming reel douser. With me so far?"

The rest of the morning sped by, with Jensen showing Jared how to thread a reel while explaining the major components – how the feeder reel and sprocket directs the film to loop before the gate, how to work the focusing and racking knobs, how it's actually the projector's shutter that allows people's brains to recognize the frames as "moving pictures." Then, of course, it was showtime.

Surprise to all involved, Jared was _good_. He hit the cues perfectly, managed to get the next reel ready within moments of the changeover, and only had one glitch – stupid faulty focusing knob – the entire first half of his shift.

He was also incredibly moody. The rules stated all projection room employees had to be quiet during shows, and the ensuing silence left Jared with nothing but his own thoughts.

Jensen must have picked up on it, because just after Jared changed the third reel of the three-ten showing in theater nineteen, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Dude, you okay?" Jensen's whisper was just loud enough to be heard over the flap and click of the shutters. "I know we have to be pretty damn quiet up here, but come on, you haven't said more than two words since we got started, and I didn't think you were capable of shutting up that long." At Jared's scowl, Jensen backed up a bit. "Come on, spill. What's got your brain working overtime?"

"It's nothing." Jared moved to check the machines for theater twenty-three, even though the reel clearly had another ten minutes left before changeover.

"Bullshit." This whisper had more volume. "You were fine last night, and now you're the poster boy for Emo'R'Us. I take it your date didn't go well."

Jared snorted, maybe a smidge too loudly. "Understatement. First, she had a problem with what I was wearing. It's not like I had time to run home and change, but I always wear a t-shirt underneath my work shirt. Not good enough, apparently. And she wanted to see that fucking chick flick instead of something good. Then, she gave me this look when I started talking with the guys working concessions last night, like I wasn't getting her diet Coke fast enough. She talked during the movie, left her trash in her seat, and get this! She told me to be sure to tell Chad she'd followed through on the date because she still wanted hook-ups to his parties. Five years, I’ve been crazy for this girl, and that’s what I get. A date in exchanged for _favors_. Can you fucking believe it?"

Jared let out a sharp breath, his bangs fluttering as he exhaled, and then he looked over at Jensen. The bastard was smirking. "Dude! You mind not taking glee in my emotional pain here?"

Jensen seemed to realize too late just what his face was doing, and he tried to straighten up quickly. "Sorry. I'm not… It's not that she screwed you over, man. I swear. It's just, I've been there, and it's weird watching it from an outsider's perspective."

"Still sucks though."

"Yeah. But you feel a bit better now that it's off your chest, don't ya?"

Oddly enough… "Actually, I kinda do."

"Good. Now shut up and get back to work." Jensen dodged Jared's half-hearted punch at his arm and smiled, biting his lip.

*****

Jared pretty much slept through the weekend. And it was glorious.

Monday morning, he walked into the theater lobby and was greeted by some ear-grating stereotypical country song – the singer had apparently lost his dog and his truck in the same day, tragic. The “music” wailed across an overhead system Jared didn’t even know they had.

Chris was in the lounge when Jared walked in to see where he was stationed for the day – concessions, fun fun. Chris seemed to know exactly what was on Jared’s mind. “Management finally paid to have the Movie Tunes system repaired.” A particularly harsh bout of static hissed over the speakers, and they both cringed. “They’re still working out the kinks.”

“Apparently,” Jared smirked.

By lunchtime, he was just about ready to claw up the wall and rip the damn speakers out with his bare hands. “We’ve heard this same song five times already,” he complained to Allison, as she scooped up another bag of large popcorn for the family of six impatiently waiting at the counter. “I want to buy the guy another dog and tell him to shut up, already!”

She looked at him confused for a second, handed over the popcorn to the customer, and then pulled a foam earplug free from her left ear. “What?”

“You little cheat! How are you even able to tell what people are ordering?”

“Like you have to be a professional lip reader to recognize ‘popcorn,’ ‘Diet Coke,’ or ‘Twizzlers.’ There’s not a safe room in this entire place, and I have to maintain my sanity somehow.”

The earplugs didn’t last long though, because all it took was a passing word to Chris before both Tom and Mike showed up at the food counter. Tom held her arms to her side, Mike pulled the plugs free, and Allison was forced to suffer like the rest of them. Jared stood back and laughed, which earned him a face full of popcorn for his trouble.

There was only one topic of conversation at Treff’s that evening.

“I kept forgetting to hit the switch to turn it back on in the theaters after the reel ended,” Jensen groaned into his glass of beer. “Kripke flipped after the third time. Got Scrub Squad for the rest of the fucking week.”

“It might be different if it was actually decent,” Kristin added. “But honestly, the CD is like forty-five minutes long and it’s terrible! Thought my brain was going to dribble out of my ears.”

“How did they find the cheesiest announcer ever? Was it an open casting call or something?”

“It wasn’t even real instruments. It was 80’s synthesizer. _Bad_ 80’s synthesizer.”

“My little sister has one of those “Kid Rockz” CDs, and they do better covers than the shit we had to listen to today.”

Jared sat back, one terrible, wicked idea forming. “Hey Jensen, you said you kept forgetting to flip the switch. Was the whole system up there? Did you get a good look at it?”

Jensen nodded. “Yeah. Looked like one stereo hooked up to all the screens in the block. I know the player for block one was hooked into the lobby too. It’s set on loop, under freakin’ lock and key.”

“Just a padlock?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll need paperclips then. Everyone bring your favorite CDs with ya tomorrow. We can fix this.”

*****

He hit the third block first. It was furthest from the lobby, and Kripke was least likely to notice the change. Tom and Kristin were scheduled to work the projection on that block, which made it all the easier.

The system was just as Jensen described: a small black cabinet with a windowed door sitting in the corner of the room. The stereo was nestled inside, wires running from it, close to the wall, and up to each projection unit.

Jared hunkered down in front of the cabinet and pulled a paperclip from his pocket. The padlock was small, barely better than the lock on his sister’s diary. “Piece of cake.”

“You know how to pick locks?” Kristin asked.

He smirked while he bent the paperclip and stuck the straight end into the lock. “Eighth grade, I was working on a science project that needed cool temperatures, and I got permission to keep it in the school refrigerator. The day before it was due, I stayed late to finish, but the cafeteria workers had locked the fridge when they left. Had to learn the hard way.” Jared gave a flick of his wrist, and the lock popped open. “Seemed like a good skill, so I’ve been practicing ever since.”

They opened the cabinet and hit eject on the stereo. The Movie Tunes CD even looked cheap, just a white-faced disc with the name and model number on the front. They traded it out for Tom’s collection of the greatest classic rock hits.

“When this CD’s done, switch with one of Kristin’s,” Jared explained as he closed the cabinet door again and spun the lock around to look like it was still latched. He pocketed the Movie Tunes CD and left, on his way to Block Two.

Second verse, same as the first. Mike was working the projector, along with Alexis. When Jared held his fingers to his lips and knelt in front of the stereo, she let out of gust of breath. “Oh thank god. Another day of that, and I would have started crying, I swear.”

Jared paused what he was doing. “Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Once he had it open, Mike handed over the soundtrack to _Empire Records_. “Stop laughing. It’s an awesome soundtrack, and you know it.” Jared scaled his reaction back to a chuckle and left with the second official CD smuggled in his pockets.

His room was going to be hardest. With it tied into the lobby’s sound system, Kripke was going to notice if the music cut off. Jared would have to time it just as a song ended, otherwise his boss was going to know immediately something was going on.

Chris was waiting for him when Jared reached the top of the stairs. “Everyone’s golden?”

“Yeah, but we’re going to have a long conversation with Mike about his taste in music when all this is over.” Jared made quick work of the lock, got the display open and ready for the switch. “Whatcha got for me?”

The disc Chris passed over was just a plain CD-R. “One of our shows. Steve and me, I mean. Self-recorded, but sounds damn good if I say so myself.”

Jared waited until the final chorus of _Honky-tonk Howl_ or whatever the monstrosity was called before he hit eject and switched the CDs. He shut and locked the case again, slid the three Movie Tunes discs under a few reels in the corner of the room, and then rushed them both to the projectors to start getting set up for the morning’s presentations.

A minute barely passed before they heard pounding footsteps coming up the stairs, Kripke throwing open the door. He didn’t say a word, just pulled keys from his pocket, marched over to the cabinet, and opened it up.

In a pinch, Jared mimicked a good, _innocent_ , employee. “Something wrong, sir?”

“Don’t start with me, Pistachio. Kane, where’s the real CD?”

“Haven’t touched it, boss.” Chris held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“Now look, both of you. This system is not your personal stereo. I want that disc back in place, or you’ll both have janitorial detail for a month, you got that?” Kripke had flushed red to the tips of his ears and then stormed out of the room.

Chris tipped his hat back, looked Jared’s way. “Your call, rookie.”

Jared shrugged. “I _am_ pretty damn good with that mop.”

*****

The CDs didn’t magically reappear, and just as Kripke had threatened, Jared arrived the next morning to find both his and Chris’ names assigned to Scrub Squad. _Only_ their names. Even Jensen, who had been sentenced to janitorial just the other day, was assigned something else.

Jared gawked at the dry erase board. “He wants us to handle the whole place ourselves?”

“We may have pushed him a little too far this time,” Chris said, rubbing the back of his neck. He left his hat in the lounge.

Jared quickly learned that two people could _not_ handle over two dozen screens, restrooms, and the lobby all on their own. It seemed like there were more people than usual, making even more of a mess than he and Chris could keep up with. In fact, Jared was already run ragged before all of the first showings had let out, and they still had hours to go.

Which is probably why he overreacted a little bit when he saw Jensen walking his way, pushing a broom. He scooped Jensen up into the biggest bear hug he could muster, practically whimpering “thank you” repeatedly in the poor guy’s ear.

“Jared, man, you can put me down any second now.”

Once Jensen’s feet were firmly back on the floor, he led the way to start clearing out Theater Eight. “You two got a stay of execution. Turns out we had a critic show up yesterday and didn’t even know it. The guy hated the movie but wrote his whole freaking article about how it was great to find a theater steering clear of the ‘mindless pre-show drivel the rest of the country has embraced.’ Told everyone to get their asses out here and ‘enjoy a promotion of all the arts.’ The manager saw it, called Kripke to tell him the good news. I’ve never seen the guy so happy. He’s acting like the Pope patted him on the back or something. I’m half expecting him to make an announcement after shift about how it’s now company policy for employees to bring CDs from home to play during shifts.”

“Sorry you got put back on clean-up detail, though.”

Jensen shrugged. “Like we really needed five people selling tickets.”

*****

Celebrations that night involved the official Movie Tunes CDs, an overgrown field just on the outskirts of town, and Jared’s old BB gun.

“Pull!”

Tom launched one of the discs like a Frisbee; Mike took aim and fired. A small cheer went up when the CD teetered out of the air, and Jared couldn’t help grinning when Mike broke into a victory dance.

Of course, Mike’s celebration was nothing in comparison to the wild applause Allison earned when she snapped the next disc in half with one shot. Jared made a mental note: _Never make Allison angry. Yeesh._

“Hey, Jared?”

He turned to find Jensen standing behind him, green eyes still bright even with only the moonlight illuminating them. Jensen looked…uncomfortable. Anxious, even. He opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut just as quickly, and looked to the side. Jared followed his gaze and saw Chris staring back at them, a weird look on his face.

Jensen sighed. “Mind if I take the next shot?”

“Knock yourself out, man.”

No one left the field until the CDs were in bits and pieces.

*****

A couple weeks later, at the end of one of their shifts, Kripke called an emergency meeting for all the matinee crew. When everyone squeezed into the employee lounge (and Chris took his hat off yet again), Kripke put on his best Patton-face and paced as far as the little room allowed. “As you all may know, we have one hell of a blockbuster opening next weekend, which means a midnight showing. These are never small undertakings. We’re talking huge crowds, and that calls for everyone on staff to be on the clock, matinee workers included.”

A few of people groaned, and Jared was more than happy to join in with them. He had waited months for this damn movie, planned on attending the midnight show himself, and now he had _work_.

He turned to rant to anyone in the vicinity and caught sight of Jensen and Chris. Both of them were smiling ridiculously huge grins. Kripke noticed as well, and he raised his hand with a heavy sigh. “Before you even ask, yes. Wednesday night after closing, no guests, and I’ll be running it.”

To the bewilderment of all the rookies, the veteran summer crew let out a small cheer. Jared looked to Jensen for explanation, and the man mouthed _later_ before actually turning his full attention back to Kripke. Jared noticed Chris kept his hat off the whole time, too.

As soon as the meeting let out, Jared pulled Jensen aside. “Spill.”

“I told you there were perks,” Jensen said with that brilliant grin on his face. “Employee screening. Big movie like this with everyone looking forward to it, we have to make sure there’re no glitches in the reels. So we have to run it at least once.”

“Wednesday night,” Jared said slowly, realization dawning. “Before it actually opens.”

Jensen nodded. “And Kripke’s working projection, so none of us have to pick the short straw and miss out. Plus, it’s free.” He barely said it all before Jared about-faced back into the lounge and grabbed his manager in the biggest bear hug he could muster.

“Thank you, you beautiful little man, you.” He squeezed tighter, and Kripke hiccupped.

Behind him, Jensen was laughing so hard he nearly doubled over.

*****

Wednesday night was the greatest night in the history of the world. As soon as the last paying customer was out the door, it seemed like the entire staff was ready to enjoy mind-numbing action and ear-splitting explosions. Someone re-opened the till – plus made a fresh batch of popcorn so no one caught the day’s dregs – and they each took turns grabbing food from concessions. Once they were all satisfied with the amount of candy stocked in their pockets, buckets and cups precariously balanced, they all made their way into the assigned theater.

He sat with his regular crew, wedged between Jensen and Mike. Tom kept batting Mike’s hand away from his economy-sized tub of popcorn. Allison and Kristin bit the ends off their Twizzlers and used them as straws. Chris kept pushing Jensen’s arm off the rest so he could claim it as his own.

The previews were good, but the movie was better. The dialogue was spot-on, acting phenomenal, and the special effects were amazing. Jared might have fallen a little bit in love with the comic relief. One perfectly quirky line had the whole audience laughing hysterically, and Jared caught at least three people spit-take their drinks. It made him laugh all the harder until he couldn’t even sit up straight in his seat. When he collapsed sideways, unable to stop his giggles, Jared found his cheek resting on Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen tensed a little, whispered harshly, “Dude, it’s not _that_ funny,” to which Jared weakly pointed beside him, Mike holding a wad of tissues to his face, dark splotches coloring his pants. “It…came out…his nose!” Jared managed between breaths.

Jensen gave Mike another look, chuckled, and then patted Jared on the head. “Breath, genius. Oxygen is good for you.”

*****

As much fun as Wednesday night was, Thursday morning was hell on earth.

“JT!” His mother yelled at him. “Your alarm clock is _not_ the traitorous minion of Satan you’re making it out to be, and you will not put another hole in your wall. Now get out of bed, mister!”

The whole day passed in a haze of not enough sleep or caffeine, but Jared took small consolation in knowing everyone else was feeling the same way. At least he was on Scrub Squad rather than projection again. It took considerably less brain power to push a broom.

Knowing he was going to be working again that night made the day seem even longer, and when he crawled into the employee lounge and clocked out at the end of his first shift, he didn’t even bother heading home. Instead, he plopped into one of the chairs at the table, determined to get at least a few hours’ nap.

He had five minutes of peace before the door slammed open and Mike came bouncing in. Literally, bouncing, his head nearly hitting the door frame upon entry. Tom trailed blearily behind him, sending mutinous glares at his friend.

“What the hell is his problem?” Jared asked, not even lifting his head from the table.

“He bribed, err, _paid_ Steve to bring him a caramel macchiato from Starbucks every hour. With an extra shot of espresso each time,” Tom grumbled, grabbing one of the other seats. “And when he wasn't drinking those, he was chowing down on protein energy bars and Pixie Stix. I figure we have another thirty minutes or so of him acting like this before his heart explodes.”

“If it does, you're cleaning it up. I'm already clocked out.”

*****

The last normal showtime was at 9:45 that night. By the time it got out, the lobby was filled with anxious people impatiently waiting in line for the midnight premiere.

“This is insane,” Jared said, holding close to the concession stand, far enough from the crowd to avoid yet whining customer asking him how much longer.

“This is nothing,” Chris chuckled, leaning on his push broom. “You should see it when there’s a new Harry Potter movie. Crowd’s twice as large and in _costume_.”

Jared meant to laugh, he really did. But as his eyes roamed over the crowd, imagining half of them with pointy hats and round-rimmed glasses, his gaze fell on a couple practically having sex standing up with their clothes on. The dude was some guy he recognized from a couple of Chad’s parties but never got the name of, a pretty-boy blond who was probably captain of his football team back in high school. But the girl, well, Jared would recognize Sandy anywhere.

He must have tensed up, because Chris’ joking tone vanished. “Hey, you alright?” He followed Jared’s line of sight, and Jared was all set to explain that he wasn’t actually gawking at the floor show, but then Chris sucked in a hissing breath. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“Justin fucking Hartley is what. That asshole has a lot of fucking nerve showing his fucking face here.” And wow, Chris’ vocabulary went blue quickly when he was upset; thank goodness Kripke wasn’t around. Poor guy would get Scrub Squad for life. 

He passed his broom to Jared. “Take this before I do something violent and stupid with it. I’m already planning on having too much fun throwing him and that skank out of here for public indecency. And go find Jensen. Make sure you keep him clear of the lobby until they’re gone.”

Mind still reeling around the word _skank_ , Jared turned to follow Chris’ orders and immediately cursed. “Too late.”

Jensen was standing just across the way. Those moss-green eyes were focused on the lobby’s scene, and there was a tick in Jensen’s jaw that Jared didn’t like the look of. Jensen shifted a little, kind of like he was going to step forward to say something, but he glanced aside at the last minute, saw Jared and Chris looking at him, and spun around to stomp off down the hall.

“Fuck,” Chris growled. “Just…go after him. Make sure he’s okay. I’m late for a date with aggravated assault.” He marched into the crowd, hands clenched into fists, and Jared was really glad Chris didn’t take back his broom.

Given the direction Jensen took off in, Jared had a pretty good idea where the guy was headed. He held back a little bit, wanting to give Jensen a few moments to cool down – and maybe he wanted the grim satisfaction of watching Chris literally throw Justin out the lobby doors – and then Jared headed for the backup supply closet.

He knocked, but received no reply, so he waited a few seconds, then stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The bulb overhead was already on, flickering dimly, and Jared edged to the gap behind the boxes.

Just like he expected, Jensen was there, slouched against the far wall with his eyes closed. He didn’t even open them when he said, “Get lost.”

“Now who’s being the poster boy for Emo’R’Us?” Jared squeezed all the way through the gap and faced Jensen, who turned to glare in his direction. “Come on, what’s up? That guy give you wedgies in high school or something?”

Jensen laughed, and there was absolutely no humor in the sound. “Or something. Just, leave it, okay?” In response, Jared slid down the wall into a crouch and just looked up at Jensen impatiently.

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of it that easy. I shared my man-pain before, now it’s your turn.” After a brief staring contest, Jensen slumped down the wall, defeated, and hit the floor with a _whump_.

“You know the whole ‘everyone experiments in college’ thing?” Jensen waited for Jared’s nod before continuing. “Well, Justin didn’t wait until college. Our folks were friends back when we were in, like, second grade, so we grew up together. When he realized he was looking a little too long at his teammates in the showers after practice, well, he came to the one guy he knew would understand. And we…” Jensen paused, tipped his head back and took a deep breath.

“Two months, we didn’t tell anyone. Around homecoming, word got out that the head cheerleader wanted him to ask her to the dance. Well, that was enough for him to reassert his status as the All-American Hetero Man, and I got tossed like yesterday’s garbage. Made the mistake of approaching him once, just to tell him I understood, and he panicked before I could get a word in. Told everyone within earshot, including his teammates, about the fag in Drama Club who kept hitting on him. And of course, who would even doubt the school’s star running back? So I spent the rest of my senior year getting my ass kicked by the varsity defensive line. And he went mega-butch and spent the rest of the year hooking up with every girl who would open her legs, making sure he was out somewhere I’d see him, like in the lobby with that one just now.”

Jared blinked, stunned. “Wow.” Of all the things to come out of Jensen’s mouth, this was not what he was expecting. “That’s…man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know, otherwise I wouldn’t have said…”

“Not your fault. It’s not exactly common knowledge, and in truth, I thought I was over it. Haven’t seen the jackass in five years. Thought he might have grown up a little by now. He knows I work here every summer, for crying out loud.”

There was a brief moment of silence, both of them just kind of staring at the floor. “So you’re…” The words were out before Jared even knew he’d opened his mouth, and he snapped it shut to cut himself off.

Jensen huffed. “Yeah. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

“No prob,” and he smiled to prove his point. “Just, you mind if I wallow here with you for a little bit? That girl with Justin was Sandy.”

It took a moment for the pieces to click into place, then Jensen raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Fuck, sorry. Yeah, wallow away. There’s plenty of floor.”

They sat companionably on the ground, both stuck in their own headspace, and before long, the hall beyond the door filled with the noise of the midnight crowd streaming into their theater like cattle herded into a barn.

It was quiet again before Jensen spoke up. “You’re not going to make an ‘in the closet’ joke now, are you?” Jared could hear the smile in his voice.

“I was thinking about it.”

Silence again.

“Hey, Jared?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

*****

Jared had lied. He did have a problem with it. A big problem.

It’s not like he was thinking _oh shit, he’s gay, can I even be friends with him anymore?_ It was more like he was thinking _soooo, he likes guys._

And he couldn’t stop thinking it. Hence the problem.

It was usually pretty damn simple. You hang out with a guy, you play one round of “Whoa, Check Her Out” and find if he’s partial to brunettes or tall chicks or Swedish yodelers, and everyone moves on, hoping your better-looking friend doesn’t sweep a prospect out from under you.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed that Jensen was a good-looking guy. Hell, Jared would even go so far as to calling the man handsome.

Alright, the guy was fucking hot, and Jared knew it. God forbid his little sister ever met Jensen, because he was the type of guy she’d be giggling over for hours on the phone.

But now Jared was stuck thinking about what kind of _guy_ did it for Jensen, completely unable to broach the subject, and man it was screwing with his brain. He had no common ground. It’s not like he could just say, “So, kissing men. What’s that like?”

“What’s what like?” Jensen asked.

Fuck.

Jared froze where he stood, holding a half-filled soda perched precariously on the railing in front of him. Jensen was a few steps down, broom held at the ready, looking confused. “Come on, man. You’ve been mumbling under your breath for the last week. You’re scaring the natives.” To prove his point, Jensen gestured to the rest of the empty theater, and Jared noticed the third member of their crew had gone missing.

“It’s stupid.”

“I doubt it.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I—” Jared took a deep breath and braced himself. “I was just thinking about you...being gay.”

At least Jensen wasn’t laughing. Instead, he was standing stock still, doing a really good impersonation of a deer caught in headlights. “Oh.”

Shit, damage control. “I’m not freaking out or anything, I promise. It’s only my abnormal curiosity getting the best of me. This is unknown territory, the whole kissing a guy thing.”

Jensen seemed to sag a little bit, tension seeping out of him and maybe looking a little bashful. “Oh, okay. Um, I bet it’s not that different than kissing girls. A little scratchier at times, maybe.”

“Yeah, but what about hands? Where do those go? Tongue or no tongue? And how do you know who leads or whatever?” Now that they were talking about it, Jared couldn’t stop the thoughts from just tumbling out of his mouth, half of which he hadn’t even known he was considering.

“Christ, Jared. Same way you’d know with a girl.” Jensen huffed, climbed up a step. “Look, you really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“And you won’t freak out or anything?”

Jared shook his head no before his brain could catch up with, “hey, wait a second here.” But by then, Jensen had climbed the last step, lifted his chin up and pressed his lips to Jared’s.

Jensen’s lips were soft, pliant and slightly parted against his own, and damn, okay, it felt _good_. Jared’s eyes slipped shut without him knowing it, and he tilted his head just so, leaned into the kiss a little more, and wow, that was even better.

Jensen made a small sound, might have been a moan or a whimper, opened his lips a little wider, and Jared knew just what to do with that invitation. Jared teased his tongue in slowly, lifted his hands to cradle Jensen’s face, felt afternoon stubble under his fingertips, and okay, nothing like kissing a girl.

As if on cue, Jensen jerked away, stepped back down those two stairs. His eyes were trained firmly on the floor. “There you go. You’ve kissed a guy now. Curiosity sated?”

Jared blinked a couple time, dazed and really, really confused. His voice caught the first time he tried to answer, so he coughed, then tried again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright. Good. You’re good. I’m gonna go…get you a mop because, um, yeah.” Jensen skittered down the stairs and out of the room.

Mop? Jared looked down and saw the mess at his feet, soda spilled from the cup he had been holding when this all started. Just great. And there was actually a mop attached to their cart at the end of the stairs, which meant Jensen just…

Wonderful.

*****

Things were awkward for the rest of their shift. Jensen made it a point to stand in a different aisle from Jared whenever they were cleaning a theater, and he came up with a convenient excuse to vanish for a bit when they had to tackle the restrooms.

Jared didn’t know what the problem was. He didn’t freak out, just like he’d promised. He was trying to be nice, smiled whenever he caught Jensen’s eye, asked for brooms and bleach when he needed them, business as usual. But Jensen would always look away, tossed whatever Jared needed across the seats.

Jared made it easy for everyone by not joining in the evening’s activities at Treff’s. He’d give Jensen the night to get over whatever was bugging him.

Instead, he took Chad up on his invitation to the latest and greatest party at Chez Murray. It seemed like they were getting more popular, because there were nearly three times as many cars outside than the first one Jared had attended. It took Jared twenty minutes to find Chad once he got inside, and another five to wait for Chad to disentangle from the blonde sitting on his lap.

“Jared! The prodigy son returns.”

“Prodigal,” Jared corrected.

“Whatever,” Chad waved it off. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me. Kegs are in the kitchen, harder stuff in the game room if you’re interested; we’ve stepped it up a bit refreshment-wise since the last time you were here. Grab yourself a drink and we’ll catch up on old times.”

Three beers later, and everything was okay. Better than okay, it was _nice_. Jared was even able to ignore the spectacle Sandy and Justin were making of themselves—not that he saw them come in or anything—and instead focused on telling Chad another story from work, one all about the time he and Jensen had managed to lock Kripke out of his office. Man, good times, good times.

Chad slammed back the rest of his beer and smiled a little lazily. “Dude, just bring him with you next time.”

“Who?”

“This Jensen whoever. You’ve only been talking about him non-stop for the last hour. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a crush on the guy, as disturbing a thought as that is.”

Strike that, rewind. Jared played the entire conversation back in his head, and yeah, he had been talking about Jensen the whole time. But he had good reason to have Jensen on his mind. It wasn’t every day your male coworker kissed you and then took off before you could tell him it was okay and yeah, maybe it was pretty hot too and you wouldn’t mind…wouldn’t mind doing it again.

Oh.

Oh, _shit_. 

“Hey Chad? You got any coffee around this place? I think I need to sober up and get home.”

*****

Did he describe the day before as awkward? Jared had no idea what awkward meant until he arrived at work that morning. The duty board had three people listed under concessions: Jared, Mike, and Jensen. 

Of course.

The whole morning was a comedy of errors. It was clear whatever Jensen’s problem was, it hadn’t cleared up overnight, and now Jared had a whole mess of issues of his own. They uncomfortably danced around one another, a word here, a gesture there, awkwardly coming into each other’s space whenever one of them needed something closer to the other. Jared messed up three customers’ orders while trying to sidestep Jensen, and Jensen managed to send a whole stack of cups flying at one point when Jared asked him to pass a few his way.

It was during a lull that Mike turned to both of them. “Okay, you guys better can it with whatever issue you have with one another, otherwise the boss-man’s gonna throw a hissy fit. Just, I dunno, kiss and make up, then get it the hell together.”

At the word _kiss_ , Jared started choking on his own spit, and Jensen’s eyes went so wide that the whites were clear around his irises. Jared hadn’t even stopped sputtering before Jensen excused himself for a short break and took off down the hallway.

Fifteen minutes later, Jensen wasn’t back, and Chris came marching up to the counter. “Either of you holding one of the keys to the back closet? Door’s locked, and both keys are gone from their usual spots.”

Mike shook his head. “Not I, said the fly. Though if I had to guess, I’d say your boy took them and is hiding in there.”

“Jensen? What for?”

“No clue. Ask Tweedledum over here,” Mike motioned toward Jared with his head.

Chris looked Jared’s way, one eyebrow cocked. Something must have shown on Jared’s face, because in a blink, Chris had all but bodily pulled him over the counter and tugged him into the employee lounge. “Well?”

“It’s nothing.”

Chris’ eyes narrowed, calculating. “Yeah, right. Jensen wouldn’t flip over nothing. Did he tell you? Did you freak out on him?”

“I didn’t freak out!” Jared blurted. “That’s the problem! He told me he was gay and I was too fucking curious about it and I told him and then we kissed and _he_ freaked and now I’m too goddamn nervous to tell him that I really, _really_ want to do it again, and there you fucking go!”

“Say that last part again.”

The words had flown out of Jared’s mouth in such a rush, a complete disconnect between his brain and his tongue, that it took him a minute to remember exactly what he’d said. “That I really want to do it again?”

“Is this because you’re attracted to him or because it’s been so long since you’ve been laid that anyone would work?”

That stopped Jared dead, because damn, it was a good question. He had never so much as looked at another guy before, but there were times when he had noticed the little things about Jensen, details that somehow seemed _important_. Times when having Jensen around, or just thinking about him had caused Jared to calm down and even smile. And none of it was just because they were friends, because he sure as hell didn’t feel that way around Chad or any of the other guys at Starlight. This was something different, something…wow.

“It’s him,” Jared said a little breathlessly. Neither of them could miss the hint of surprise in his voice.

“Good, because he has been crushing hard on you, and if you were going to screw him over like Justin did, I’d probably kill you now just to save us all some trouble.”

Hold that thought. “Really? He likes me?”

Chris tipped his hat back, gave Jared a _you’re kidding, right_ smile. “Mooning over you like a preteen with her brand new issues of _Tiger Beat_. Thought he was actually going to grow a pair and ask you out that night we trashed the CDs, but we all know how that went.”

Well, how about that? “Got any paperclips on you?”

*****

For the sake of politeness, Jared knocked on the closet door before picking the lock and forcing his way inside. He found Jensen slouching against the back wall, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“This is very déjà vu,” Jared said as he snuck behind the false wall.

“I think you’ve said that before.” Jensen huffed, then bowed his head. “Look, Jared—”

“Wait,” Jared cut him off. “Just…can I say something first? Please?”

Jensen nodded, and Jared stepped forward and kissed him.

Jared’s original plan was to keep the kiss soft and light, just a way to say _yes, I want this_ without so many words, but once their lips connected, he suddenly wanted to press in and deepen it – to hell with talking and on with the good stuff – but Jensen was slack and unresponsive beneath him, so Jared forced himself to pull back. That shocked look was on Jensen’s face, green eyes intense even in the dim closet light.

“I’ll be the first to admit it,” Jared started. “I have no clue what I’m doing here. This is not something I’d considered, ever, before this summer. But I like you—a lot, apparently—and I’d like to give this, us, a shot.”

Jensen dropped his eyes to the ground, took a deep breath. “No.”

It was so quiet that Jared thought he was hearing things. But then Jensen lifted his gaze again and repeated himself. “No. I’m not playing this game again, Jared, being part of some confused straight guy’s experimentation. That kiss, yesterday…it didn’t mean anything, especially with you rebounding from seeing that chick with Justin. You told me you’d been pining over her for five years, and that’s not something that goes away overnight. Take a few days, okay? You’ll realize I’m right, and later you’ll thank me for saving you from something you’d just regret in the years to come.”

Struck dumbfounded, Jared could only gape as Jensen snuck past him and rushed out of the closet, closing the door as he left. There was a prolonged moment of _he said no_ before Jared followed sluggishly, flipping off the lights and hitting the thumb lock on the doorknob on his way out.

He kept his eyes on the carpet as he meandered back to the lobby and only looked up when he heard a door opening ahead of him. Jensen stepped out of Kripke’s office and didn’t look back as he walked straight out of the theater.

Jared hadn’t realized he’d stopped in his tracks until he turned and found Kripke standing right next to him. “Seven summers, and that kid has never taken a sick day before now,” he mused to himself. Then, “Get back to work, Palindrome.”

*****

Jensen wasn’t back at the theater the next day. Or the day after that. On day three, even Chris was getting worried. “Yeah, he’s not answering when I call, either. I tried stopping by his place after shift yesterday, and he wasn’t there. Just what the hell did you say to him, rookie?”

None of the other staff seemed to know where Jensen had vanished to, which left one final course of action. Jared knocked on the assistant manager’s office door, receiving a curt “yeah” a moment later.

Kripke was seated behind a desk covered in paperwork. He had a pencil wedged behind his ear, a stream of calculator tape in his hand, and he was glaring over the desk at Jared. “I’m making my rounds in about five minutes. What couldn’t wait?”

Jared shuffled a little where he stood. “A few of us were worried about Jensen. He hasn’t been in for a few days, and we were wondering if you had heard from him.”

“Jensen?”

“Ackles, sir.”

“Right, Ackles.” Kripke pulled the pencil loose and looked down at the calculations in front of him. “Kid's still sick, apparently. He's been calling the manager during the night shift, requesting his stocked-up vacation days. According to Morgan, Ackles could take the next month off if he really needed to.”

A month. Oh, how that wasn’t going to happen.

Jared pulled Chris aside at the end of shift and asked for directions to Jensen’s house. When Chris gave him what he was looking for, along with a just-what-are-you-thinking look, Jared added, “I’m just going to talk to him.”

“And we saw how well that worked the last time,” Chris scoffed, but he didn’t try to stop him. “His folks are usually gone at church Wednesday nights, but he never joins them. So don’t let a dark house fool ya.”

It was a good thing Chris had given him the heads-up, because not a single light was visible when Jared pulled into the drive. He knocked on the front door a couple times, leaned on the doorbell for a few seconds, and then started pounding with the side of his fist.

“Jensen, I know you’re in there. Come on, man.” Jared tried to peer through the small frosted glass window set into the door, desperate for some sign of activity inside. “I brought paperclips, and I’m not afraid to use them.”

Finally, the porch light flipped on, and Jared stepped back when he heard the lock turn. “Like freaking MacGyver with those damn paperclips,” Jensen huffed once he got the door open.

For a moment, all Jared could do was blink. His plan never went anywhere past _find Jensen and talk_ , and now the guy was standing in front of him wearing torn-to-hell jeans and a t-shirt that was maybe just a smidge too tight, and all of the words flew right out of Jared's head.

Jensen perked an eyebrow. “You alright?”

Jared shook his head a bit, just to knock some words loose, then he jabbed a finger at Jensen's chest. “You're not sick.”

Up went the other eyebrow. “Stunning master of deduction, you are.”

“Well then, what’s with the disappearing act? You tell me to take a few days to think about it, then you take off before I can get anything in edgewise. Bad form, man.” Jensen gave him a little smile, and Jared couldn’t help but grin back before continuing. “Look, I know you’re nervous. And I’ll be completely honest, this will be an experiment. _All_ relationships are, because you never know how they’re going to end up. But I promise you that I am nothing like Justin. I don’t think I could ever stoop to that level, even if I tried, and believe me, I won’t. I’ll gladly sing it from the rooftops if you want me too, because I’m serious about this.” Jared took a small step forward, softened his grin just a bit. “I’m serious about you.”

There was that stunned look again, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. “Wow. Jared…” Then, Jensen smirked. “You had me at hello.”

Jared reached out and smacked Jensen on the arm. “Jerk. I mean it. Just…slow, okay? We’ll date a bit. Guys date, right?”

“Despite what TV will tell you, it’s not all random hookups for sex and then suddenly you’re living in a penthouse with two shih-tzus and matching outfits. Yes, guys date.”

“Good. Normally, I’d say let’s go to a movie, but…” Jared picked at the uniform shirt he was still wearing. “How about mini-golf?”

“What, now?”

“Why not? You have better plans?”

Jensen chuckled. “I’ll go put on something pretty.”

*****

The nearest Putt-Putt was remarkably empty when they pulled up, only a handful of other cars in the parking lot. After he cut the engine, Jared pulled off his work shirt, tossed it into the back seat of the truck, and straightened the t-shirt he wore underneath. “So, you’ve really never played full-contact mini-golf?”

Jensen climbed out of the truck, and Jared noticed he was careful not to slam the door closed. “Nope. Your fancy Earth games are new and exciting to me.”

Jared fell into step beside him, and if he was walking a little closer to Jensen than he normally would anyone else, he wasn’t going to call himself on it. “Okay, the rules are simple. First person to get their ball in the hole wins the hole; the most wins at the end of the course is the big winner. See how many courses you can get through before you’re kicked out. Everyone tees off at the same time; no touching the other players’ balls.” Jensen snorted, and Jared smacked him lightly. “Perv. Golf clubs can’t be used against the other players. All other forms of blocking, pulling, bumping, or pinning are acceptable.”

“You sure you just discovered your gay side? Because this has got to be the most homoerotic game I’ve ever heard of.”

“The very most?”

“Well, except football. I mean, every play starts with them ‘assuming the position.’ And don’t even get me started on calling one of the players a tight end.”

Jared laughed loudly, walked up to the counter, and purchased two games. He took the tallest putter they had and made a big deal about contemplating which color golf ball to use. Finally, he grabbed one of the hot pink ones. Turning back to Jensen, he asked, “You up for it?”

Jensen reached around Jared and grabbed one of the green balls. “You’re on.”

The first few holes went almost as usual, with only some tentative nudges and jolts to indicate it was anything but a normal game of golf. Around the fifth hole, things intensified, both of them trying to knock the other off-balance on the way to the end. By the time they got to the eleventh hole, Jensen had been pushed into an ankle-deep water hazard, and Jared had to pull off a last-second hurdle jump over a knee-high shrub in order to avoid crashing into said foliage.

Neither of them could stop laughing.

The round ended in a tie, nine holes each, and Jared didn’t even hesitate before running back to the counter and buying them another game. 

Hole four was when Jensen started fighting dirty, pulling on clothing and sticking his feet out to trip Jared. There was one particularly ingenious move where Jensen grabbed the hem of Jared’s t-shirt and spun him around fast enough to disorient him, and after the third time Jared wasn’t going to take it anymore. He looked back at the telltale plink of a golf ball dropping into the cup, Jensen standing victorious, arms held high in the air, breathing hard and smiling brighter than the sun.

He was gorgeous.

Jared smirked, stalked right up to him, and kissed him soundly. Jensen gave a little _mmph_ of surprise, then melted into it, wrapping his arms around Jared, letting his eyes slip shut, and giving back everything he got. There was no hesitation this time, no self-restraint, no lack of response. Just Jensen, eager against him. 

The head of Jensen’s golf club was pressing into Jared’s spine, and maybe they were both too out of breath to keep it going for longer than a moment, but that moment was absolute bliss. Jared tightened his hold around Jensen’s waist, Jensen trailed his free hand up Jared’s back and into his hair, and he had no clue which one of them opened his mouth first but suddenly there was tongue and wet and god, fucking _perfect_.

Somewhere across the way, someone wolf-whistled, accompanied by a very feminine-sounding “yee-ow.” Jared smiled against Jensen’s lips, fully aware of the attention they were attracting, let his hands slide around, and hooked fingers into Jensen’s belt loops.

Then someone male and much closer to them muttered, “Goddamn fags,” and Jensen froze solid.

Jared pulled back a little bit, just for breathing space, but kept his eyes trained on Jensen’s. Jensen suddenly looked skittish, almost panicked. “Jen,” Jared whispered, almost surprised by how easily the nickname rolled off his tongue, soft and hushed between them. “Ignore him.”

“You’re not going to freak out?” Jensen’s eyes flicked downward, away. “About what he said?”

“Nope. Sticks and stones, and all that.” Jared grinned. “Though, I’d like to see him try to say that when I’m not preoccupied with kissing you stupid.”

“You’re insane,” but Jensen was smiling again, and Jared couldn’t help leaning in for another kiss.

*****

Despite its incessant noise, Jared wanted to hug his alarm clock. Alarm meant morning, which meant work, which meant seeing Jensen again. Because Jensen was coming back to work; he had said so when Jared dropped him off last night.

Jared couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face when he thought about the previous night. God, one evening with the guy, and Jared was already giddy.

_Guy._ It was easy to think about now.

Huh.

When Jared walked into the theater, it was business as usual. Music playing over the sound system, Scrub Squad tidying the lobby, concession stand getting set up. No major change in the world to indicate that Jared had one of the best nights of his life last night.

Well, except for the Cheshire grin he knew was plastered all over his face.

Jared made his way to the employee lounge and stopped just in the doorway. There was Jensen, chatting away with Chris.

“Well, it doesn’t look like the aftermath of Ebola.” Chris had his hat tipped far back on his head, lips curled in mock concern but eyes glittering with amusement. “You sure you’re safe to be around?”

Jensen gave the weakest and most pathetic cough Jared thought he’d ever heard. “Pretty sure.”

“Good. But if you pull a stunt like that again, I might have to kill you, ya hear me?” Chris rolled his eyes, finally caught sight of Jared standing at the door. “Hey, Jared.”

Jensen turned his way as well, all pretense of sickness replaced by an eager grin. “Hey.”

Jared’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how much he was smiling. “Hey yourself.”

For a moment, all was quiet, and Chris just looked back and forth between the two of them. Then, “Jesus, rookie, you’re squirming more than a puppy being taught to ‘stay.’ Just get it over with and kiss your boy already.”

Let it never be said that Jared Padalecki couldn’t follow orders.

When they broke apart, Jared caught sight of Chris trying to wipe a smile off his face. “Right,” Chris said, clearing his throat a little. “Can we get back to work now, where life isn’t a romantic comedy?”

For the record, it was completely unfair that Jensen was scheduled to work up in projection and Jared was stuck at concessions all day. What made it worse was the fact that customers and coworkers alike kept giving Jared odd looks. Chris would just shake his head whenever he passed by the stand, but everyone else looked completely perplexed by the grin on Jared’s face.

And god, how he wanted to tell them – tell them _all_. He’d meant every word he told Jensen. He didn’t want to hide this, wasn’t going to. The problem was that he didn’t know if it was really his story to tell. Did _Jensen_ want everyone to know?

The true test on the matter came later that night. While the rest of the crew clocked out and got ready to take off for the bar, Kripke pulled Jensen aside to put his absentee paperwork in order.

“You guys go ahead,” Jensen called as he made his way to the office. “I’ll meet you there.” He looked at Jared, just a slight upturn to his lips. “Save me a seat.”

Easier said than done, and they had barely made it to their usual table before Jared found himself wedged into the corner with Mike on one side of him and Allison on the other. By the time Jensen got there, they looked very comfortable with two beers in front of each of them. And Jensen, well, he had a look on his face that Jared could only describe as disappointed.

Jared raised his hands to his side, perplexed on how to deal it. Quickly cutting his eyes in Mike’s direction, he tried as hard as he could to communicate _should I make him move_ to Jensen. He held his breath, waiting to see how Jensen would respond, because this moment would answer the question Jared had been asking himself all day.

That breath came out in a rush when Jensen gave the tiniest of head nods.

And Jared didn’t care how ridiculous he might look; he gave Jensen the flashiest smile he had in his arsenal before turning to Mike. “You mind switching seats so Jensen can sit there?”

Of course, nothing was ever that easy. Mike snorted a little into his beer bottle. “No way. You snooze, you lose. Finder’s keepers. First come, first serve, and every other cliché I can possibly find to fit the moment. I like my seat. Get your own, Jenny-boy.”

“Please?” And yep, it was time for the big guns.

“Oh hell, don’t use the puppy eyes on me. I’m not a chick, and it won’t work.”

“Oh my god.” The whole table looked over at Kristin, who had her beer paused just short of her lips. She was glancing back and forth between Jared and Jensen. Jared couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Jensen was blushing a little under the scrutiny.

“Oh my god!” This time it was Allison, only her outburst was followed by a thunking noise and Mike yelping and rubbing his shin. “Move, you jerk. Let Jensen sit there.”

“Geez, all right!” Mike hopped out of his chair, grabbing his beer on the way up. “I don’t know what’s so damn important about Jensen getting this particular spot.”

Jared almost couldn’t hear him. He was too taken in by the expression on Jensen’s face as he maneuvered into the vacated seat. Jensen just looked so happy and…relieved. And Jared couldn’t help himself. He reached for Jensen’s hand, twined their fingers together, and squeezed reassuringly. “Told you I meant it.”

Mike’s “Oh” was completely drowned out by the girls’ cooing noises.

*****

So that was that.

Nothing changed, and no one treated them differently. True, over the following weeks, Jared kept catching Allison and Kristin out of the corner of his eye, watching him, but he thought it was less them being judgmental and more them hoping to catch him and Jensen making out.

Tough luck with that when he and Jensen were the only ones assigned to the second projection room.

To be honest, he’d only meant it as a game at first. Every time they passed one another on the way to check a reel, Jared would sneak out a hand to brush, pinch, or otherwise tease Jensen in some manner.

How it escalated to him pressing Jensen up against the wall and licking the taste of the morning coffee out of Jensen’s mouth, Jared couldn’t remember. Not that he was complaining. And judging by the way Jensen’s fingers tightened in Jared’s hair, he was more than happy to oblige.

Actually, no, the evidence of Jensen’s happiness was hard against Jared’s thigh. Even through two layers of denim, Jared could feel the heat radiating off Jensen, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

Without really thinking about it, Jared braced himself with one hand against the wall and let his other hand drift from Jensen’s waist to cupping Jensen through his jeans. Jensen inhaled sharply through his nose, jerked back a little, and promptly bounced his head against the wall.

Jared’s _you okay_ froze on his tongue when he got a good look at Jensen’s face. His eyes were wide, so much like the other times Jared had caught him shocked and unaware, but now that deep moss green was nearly overcome by blown pupils. His lips, kiss-swollen and spit-shiny, were slightly parted, and they made the most wonderful shapes when Jensen whispered, “Are you sure?”

Jared gave one slow, firm stroke along Jensen’s length, watched carefully as Jensen’s eyelids fluttered a little. “What—” Jensen stuttered, voice still hushed to preserve the necessary silence of the projection room. “What happened to just dating for a bit?”

Jared responded by flicking open the button of Jensen’s jeans and slowly inching the zipper down.

As he started to reach inside, Jensen’s grip on his wrist stopped him. “We’ll miss a cue mark. Kripke will—”

“Never know,” Jared finished for him. “I worked this block earlier this week. We just started a ten minute gap where none of the reels need changing.” And then, because it beared asking: “Are _you_ sure? I mean, if you don’t want to, I could stop.”

Jensen’s hold on his arm was gone in a flash. “Don’t you dare.”

Jared smiled as he slid his hand past the fly of Jensen’s briefs and took a hold of Jensen’s dick. He had a split second to marvel at the feel of silk-over-steel, familiar yet so completely _not_ , flushed hot against his palm, before Jensen was bucking against him with a breathy moan. “God, you and those fucking hands.”

Jared leaned closer, his mouth just a hairsbreadth away from Jensen’s ear. “You got a thing for my hands, Jen?” He gave his wrist an experimental twist and was rewarded with Jensen keening beneath him.

“ _Fuck_ yes. Been dreaming about them since the day you started.” Never one to miss a cue, Jared adjusted his grip and started stroking in earnest, rhythmic, confident movements that had Jensen panting. The hand that had previously circled Jared’s wrist was now fumbling with the button to Jared’s jeans. “Jared, can I?” 

_Yes. Oh god, yes_. “Please,” he murmured, lips against Jensen’s jaw.

Jensen had Jared’s pants down and his dick out before he could say another word. At the moment Jensen’s hand was upon him, Jared threw his head back and bit into his bottom lip to trap a building moan. Jensen took the opportunity to lean forward and latch onto the tender skin at Jared’s collarbone, placing light nips up his throat to his jaw line in time with his near-frantic jacking. “How much time do we have left?” Jensen whispered against his skin, and he punctuated the question by brushing his thumb over the head of Jared’s cock, nearly causing Jared’s knees to buckle.

“Not enough time.” Jared tipped his head forward to nudge Jensen’s lips up to his own, sharing breath between the two of them. “God, not _nearly_ enough time for what I want to do to you.”

The hand still wound in Jared’s hair suddenly clenched tight enough to sting, and then Jensen was spilling over Jared’s wrist with a hissed, “oh fuck.” Jared cast his eyes down to see where Jensen’s come had splashed across his skin, watched as Jensen’s hand still pumped over Jared’s dick.

And then it hit him: he did this. He had made Jensen absolutely lose it, and oh god, it was so perfect.

Oh god…

The wave of Jared’s orgasm completely broadsided him, but somehow Jensen knew it was coming because he was right there, kissing Jared with everything he had and swallowing down the moan Jared had no chance in hell of stifling.

It all went a little fuzzy after that. 

A few moments later, Jared was coming down from his high, softening the kiss and pulling back enough to get a glimpse of the blissed look on Jensen’s face, made even more…well, beautiful, post-coital.

“I’m totally about to ruin the afterglow,” Jared said, trying to pull himself together, “but the reel for number fifteen’s about to go.”

Jensen groaned and rolled his eyes. “You get it. I’m gonna get busy melting into a lump of goo over here. You can’t say shit like that to me when I’m that close.”

Jared chuckled, tucked himself back into his pants and wiped his hand on his undershirt. Yeah, it would be gross later, but guess what? He didn’t care. He started to move away when Jensen’s grip returned to his arm. “Hey, Jared. I…” Jensen went quiet, his mouth open just enough to give the impression of words on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah.” Jared stepped back, planted the softest of kisses on those parted lips. “Yeah, same here.” 

Jensen smiled, his words still unsaid but understood, and Jared went back to work.

*****

“Damn it! Could you two keep it down with the sweet nothings? I’m getting a cavity over here.” Chris ducked as both Jared and Jensen chucked empty soda cups at his head.

The day’s schedule put the three of them at the concession stand, and so far it was a slow day, even by matinee standards. Their entertainment options were limited and, short of popping straws and playing another round of “Who Can Make the Tallest Slushie Tower,” they were running out of ideas. Which led to Jared whispering all sorts of dirty alternatives in Jensen’s ear, half of which involved the contents of the candy counter.

And if Chris thought they were only swapping cute endearments, well, it was better for him that way. He said he was already traumatized enough after walking in on them making out in the supply closet. The last thing they wanted was to give the guy more fodder for complaint.

Though, they still maintained it was his own damn fault for not knocking first.

Jared was in the middle of describing a scenario which involved hijacking the use of Kripke’s desk when a loud and familiar voice cut through the silence of the lobby.

“Hey, Jay-red!”

Chad was striding right for him, arm-in-arm with a leggy brunette and leading the pack of another six or seven people. People that included Sandy and Justin.

It was no surprise when Jared felt Jensen go completely tense against him. It _was_ a bit of shock to feel Jensen inching away right after.

No time to question it though, because then Chad was right up at the counter. “Dude, aren’t you going to get in trouble being back there?” He leaned forward, then added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Grab me some Junior Mints while you’re there.”

Jared couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling. “Chad, what does my shirt say?”

And Chad, God help him, actually took the time to read the embroidery above Jared’s pocket. “Man! Right, your job.”

“Right. And you forgot. Again. Which means no free candy for you.” The rest of the pack chuckled behind Chad before Jared continued. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you said the Starlight was a dive.”

“Yeah, well, the crew wanted to see the new Flannery movie, and this is the only place in the whole fucking city showing it. So, here we are.” Chad motioned somewhat disdainfully at the general lobby area, and in truth, it made Jared’s hackles rise. A few months’ time had been long enough for him to develop a fondness for the theater. Suddenly, the idea of taking pride in his job had a developed real meaning.

“So, who are your buds?” Chad’s quick change of topic had Jared looking behind him at his coworkers. Chris was glaring daggers at Justin, his hands clenched tight against the edge of the counter behind him. And next to him, Jensen…

Jensen was staring at the floor. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work.

Without missing a beat, Jared moved to Jensen’s side. “The guy in the hat is Chris. And this,” he put his arm around Jensen’s waist, “is Jensen, my boyfriend.”

Whoa, okay. Maybe he should have thought about that first. He and Jensen had never really discussed the “b” word yet, if they were official or anything, and yeah, maybe he should have consulted Jensen before announcing their relationship to the world.

Then again, maybe not, because the thrill of Jensen’s focus, having all that attention whipped at him from up off the floor, Jensen staring him in the face? Watching how his look of surprise melted into one of awe and fondness, and how the tension just slid away as he leaned closer into Jared’s side? That was freakin’ _incredible_. 

Chad, on the other hand, looked absolutely flabbergasted. “Okay, _this_ I would have remembered. Since when?”

Had it only been a few weeks? No matter. “Long enough. This gonna be a problem?” And try as he might, Jared couldn’t help flicking his eyes in Justin’s direction.

“No,” Chad replied way too quickly to sound comfortable and shuffled a bit where he stood. “Um, can I just get those Junior Mints? And a large Diet Coke for Sophia.”

It was ridiculously quiet while Jared got the candy and drink and rang the register when Chad handed over the cash.

“So, hey, I’ll give you a call,” Chad said as he collected the food. “See ya around, Jared.”

Only two other people in the group bought something from the counter; Justin and Sandy never even got close. That didn’t stop Chris from giving them the finger as they walked away.

Jensen was still staring at Jared, and it was becoming a little worrisome. “You alright?”

“I just didn’t think you’d—” Jensen cut himself off, shook his head, and beamed up at Jared. “I’m great. You okay?”

Jared took one last look to see Chad disappearing into the theater with the rest of his friends. “Yeah.” He glanced back at Jensen and returned the smile with everything he had. “I’m perfect.”

And he meant it.

*****

Jared had barely blinked, and suddenly it was August. It was a total shock to the system the day he came home from shift and found a letter from his school on the kitchen counter, outlining his new dorm assignment and the schedule of move-in days.

“Never thought I’d say it,” Jared told Jensen on the phone that night. “But I kinda don’t want to leave. I mean, at the Starlight, at least I get to see you every day.”

“I know what you mean.”

“You’ll come to visit, right? I mean, I know it’s a bit of a drive to get to S.T.U., but when you have a long weekend or something?”

There was silence over the line for a moment before Jensen answered, “Of course. And you’ll…come back to visit sometimes too?”

“Whenever I can.”

The last two weeks flew by faster than Jared wanted. The summer crew started dwindling in numbers; vacation was ending for all of the different students and they had to head back to their schools and universities. He told Kripke he’d work through the Saturday before his classes started, just to help cover the rush of school kids having one last hurrah before school fell back in session.

Of course, Jared pulled Scrub Squad on his last day.

He was sweeping past the manager’s office when Kripke stuck his head out the door. “Hey. Before I forget, you did good work, Padalecki. You let me know if you want to come back next summer, okay?”

Jared was still staring at the door when Jensen walked up five minutes later. “What’s up?”

“He got my name right.”

“He knew it the whole time.” Jensen’s grin was just barely constrained while Jared blinked stupidly at him. “Kripke picks a rookie each year to goof on. And with your last name, who could possibly resist?”

“Oh, ha ha.” Jared took a swipe at Jensen, who easily dodged out of the way. “You could have told me. Thought the guy had a disability or something.” Jensen laughed loudly as he disappeared down the hall.

End of shift rolled around, and everyone took the time to wish Jared the best of luck in his upcoming school year. Allison and Kristin each gave him a hug, Mike practically tackled him – “Oh Scarecrow, I think I’ll miss you most of all” – and Tom and Chris gave him a little wave from next to the time clock.

It took a little longer than he thought it would to say goodbye to Jensen. For some odd reason, his arms just wouldn’t unwrap from around Jensen’s shoulders. Freak muscle spasm, had to be.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get there, okay?”

Jensen patted him on the back. “Okay.”

“You have my dorm stuff, right? Phone number, address? You’ll come visit whenever you can?”

“I told you I would.”

Jared squeezed a little tighter. Damn those muscle spasms. “Six hours is a long drive, though. Just don’t want you to change your mind or anything.”

“Jared,” Jensen pried himself loose, took a hold of Jared’s shoulders, and held him at arm’s length. “I’m not going to change my mind. I promise. You’ll see me before you know it.”

Fuck it. Jared pulled Jensen in for another hug. Jensen sighed, but Jared could feel the smile on his face. Especially when Jensen burrowed in a little deeper and tightened his own arms around Jared’s waist.

Who knew muscle spasms were contagious?

*****

“Explain to me again why I waited until the last possible day before classes start to move back into the dorms?” Jared cradled his cell phone against his shoulder as he stacked the last of his textbooks on the shelf near his bed. The bookstore had looked insane when he had driven onto campus at around two that afternoon, and after quickly dumping his luggage and boxes in his new room, Jared had rushed over to grab the semester’s supplies. Nearly eight hours later, he was finally unpacked.

“You said it was something stupid like wanting to spend as much time with me as you could before you had to leave.” Jensen’s smile was all too clear over the phone line. “So, what’s the roommate like?”

Jared looked over at the empty bed on the other side of the room. “Non-existent. Housing director told me that something came up with the guy’s financial aid and he had to skip a semester. So unless they fill the space with someone else, I get a single room for half the price.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky _us_ ,” Jared corrected. “It’ll be nice not to worry about someone walking in when you get the chance to come up and visit me.”

“Why, Mr. Padalecki,” Jensen sing-songed. “I do believe you’re planning on having your way with me.”

Jared laughed. “Might be.”

“Not in those dorm beds, you’re not. I’m convinced they design them too small on purpose.”

Once again, Jared looked over at the empty bed. Yeah, it would require a death-defying feat of acrobatics just to get two grown men to fit in one, never mind actually _doing_ anything once they got there. “Nothing in the rule book says we can’t push the two beds together.”

Jensen was silent for a moment. Then another moment. After three, Jared looked at his phone display. Yep, disconnected. “Oh damn it.” He had his thumb on the redial button when someone knocked at the door.

Jared didn’t bother with the peephole, still looking down at his cell as he opened the door. Needless to say he was a little surprised to look up and find Jensen staring back at him.

Jensen, who had his hands in his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his heels. In the freaking flesh. “Just FYI, those beds are a bitch to move on your own.”

Jared took a moment to gawk. When he told Jensen to come and visit whenever possible, he didn’t anticipate finding the guy at his door their very first night apart. “You’re here!” Yeah, way to state the obvious. Jared mentally slapped himself. “I mean, you didn’t have to make that drive today.”

“Yes, I did.” Jensen rolled his eyes as he said it, shook his head, and stepped a little closer. “I _go_ here, Jared. First year grad student. We spent all summer together and you never once asked what I normally do. It’s not like I work at the Starlight all year round.”

Son of a…

Jensen had a point though. He _hadn’t_ asked. But then again – 

“So that whole time I was saying goodbye…”

“Took everything I had to keep a straight face, especially with Chris standing behind you, trying not to crack up. Performance that good, I’m thinking about ditching the physical therapy degree and getting into acting.” There was just a small smile on Jensen’s face though. “It _is_ really nice though, Jared. Knowing you care that much.”

“Well, yeah.”

They had a brief moment of just looking at each other, and Jared realized finally that he had a whole year with Jensen ahead of him. If they were this happy over just a summer...

His train of thought must have been crystal clear, because Jensen suddenly broke into his brilliant smile that Jared had come to pretty much adore. “I think you were saying something earlier about having your way with me.”

“Damn straight.” Jared curled his fist into the collar of Jensen’s shirt and pulled. He was busy kissing Jensen stupid before the door even swung shut behind them.

*****

Just like every other normal morning, the alarm clock went off at an unearthly volume.

_Not_ like every other morning was the arm reaching across Jared’s torso and slapping the clock halfway across the room.

“Christ, Jared,” Jensen yawned into Jared’s chest, snuggling back down. “You find that thing at Satan’s garage sale or something?”

Jared didn’t answer. He just wrapped his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and pulled him closer, content to doze off again.

They never did anything important on the first day of class anyway.

*****

_The Next Summer –_

Miracles of all miracles, on the first day of the following summer, Jared T. Padalecki woke up all by himself. He gave his alarm clock a little conciliatory pat as he rolled out of bed.

Needless to say, his mother was shocked. And wouldn’t you know it, but he caught her just as she was about to put the iron to his jeans again. It was the smallest victories in life that made it so worth it.

He drove into the parking lot with time to spare and made his way into the theater. There were a few new faces, all blinking owlishly as they looked around the room. Man, had he looked like that on _his_ first day?

No time to think on it, because Jensen was standing by the concession stand, smirking, with Chris at his side. Jared shook Chris’ hand when he got close – “How the hell did you grow even more?” Chris asked – and then turned to Jensen.

Who soundly kissed him, hard and fast.

“Just sending out a ‘hands-off’ message to the rookies,” Jensen whispered against Jared’s lips. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Morning,” Jared smiled back, then linked his fingers through Jensen’s and moved to lean against the counter.

It didn’t take long for Kripke to come stomping out of his office, clipboard in hand. Once everyone was gathered around, he started his speech.

The same damn one. “Welcome, worms, to Starlight Cinemas, your home away from home for the next three months.”

This time, Jared was more than happy to join Jensen and Chris in their mimicry, throwing in a word or two whenever he remembered what came next. They all twiddled their thumbs when Kripke’s attention turned back their way.

“Kane, for the last time, lose the hat.”

“Yes, _sir_.”

Speech over, Kripke started doling out the day’s positions, veterans first. Jensen got projection room three; Chris and Alexis on tickets. Kristin and Allison the concessions, and then, “Padalecki, you’re in three with Ackles. No funny business in there, and I mean it.” Jared couldn’t be completely certain, but it looked like Kripke was trying not to smile.

Rookies next. It was all smooth sailing until, “Ve-Vent-oh you have to be kidding me.”

“Ventimiglia, sir,” a rookie near the front answered. This year’s target, no doubt. “Milo, if it’s easier.”

“Whatever. You’re on clean up detail with Tal and Welling.” Kripke took one last look back at his clipboard. “That’s it. Everyone to work!”

“Poor guy,” Jared mused quietly. “Kripke’s gonna be calling him ‘ventilator’ before the day’s over.”

“My money’s on ‘venison,’” Jensen added before he stepped away from the counter, smirking once again. “Well, you heard the man. You ready?”

“He said no funny business.”

“Right,” Jensen said while hooking two fingers through one of Jared’s belt loops. “Only completely serious business while we’re up there.” He gave a tug, causing Jared’s hips to jerk a little.

Jared just rolled his eyes in mock frustration. “Work, work, work.”

 

_end_

**Author's Note:**

> My artists for this challenge had been LJ user gummishiip. [Her art still makes me smile.](http://gummishiip.livejournal.com/13601.html#cutid1)
> 
> This whole story came from a trip to the movie theater. I was sitting at my seat, waiting for the previews to start and listening to the pre-show entertainment. I basically heard the same three songs in a row that I had heard the previous time I'd attended. Well, that instantly made me feel terrible for the employees who have to listen to the damn thing day in and out. Had the best mental image of them all going _Office Space_ on the damn stereo. Thus, fic was born. 
> 
> And I don't apologize at all for the amount of schmoop in this story. Sometimes, we all just need a feel-good story, and this was mine. So there.
> 
> This fic is also available to read [on my LJ.](http://vorpalblades.livejournal.com/106380.html?format=light)


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